


Deadshot

by blazingsnark



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, SO, have some weird shit, here, self-induldgent fluff of my dragonborn, sssssssh this makes no sense but i couldn't get the scene out of my head gdi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazingsnark/pseuds/blazingsnark
Summary: Serana isn't used to seeing the Dragonborn, legendary archer and huntress, miss her shots.  She just saw the Dragonborn, legendary archer and huntress, miss a bunch of killing shots on a bear that was headed straight for her daughters.So Serana asks about it.





	Deadshot

“You know,” Serana said thoughtfully, staring at the dead bear, “in all the time I’ve been with you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you miss a shot.”

“You still haven’t.”  The Dragonborn raised her eyebrows as she watched her kids.  Both Sofie and Lucia were celebrating over their victory, climbing on the dead bear and laughing.

Serana turned to stare at the Dragonborn.  “You’ve felled bears with only one arrow before.  This one took five to kill, and none hit in vital points.  How did you not miss?”

The Dragonborn didn’t respond right away.  Instead, she called out to her kids.

“You’re both covered in blood.  Go inside and wash it off before you catch something.”

Sofie grumbled and obeyed, climbing off the bear.  Lucia pouted.

“But Mama….”

One stern look from the Dragonborn, and Lucia backed down, scurrying after her sister.  The Dragonborn unhooked her bow from around her quiver as the door shut.

In one smooth motion, she nocked, drew, sighted, and shot.  The black-fletched arrow thudded between the bear’s ribs with such force that the corpse actually moved a few inches back.  That was the sort of shooting Serana was used to - heavy and lethal, always hitting a vital point.  She crossed her arms.

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” she complained.  “Your kids had to get involved in that fight!”

“Precisely,” the Dragonborn said, and replaced her bow on her back.  Serana stared.

“You _wanted_ your kids to get involved?”

“They’re not going to learn to fight by hitting straw dummies in the basement.”  The Dragonborn moved forward and knelt by the bear, tugging her arrows out.  “Help me skin and clean this.  I like to at least pretend I follow the Green Pact, even if I’m not as strict as I once was.”

Serana sighed, but obeyed, unsheathing her dagger and moving forward to start slitting the bear’s skin.  The Dragonborn kept talking.

“Besides, this is Skyrim.  They’ve been indoctrinated with Nordic culture from the moment they were born.  I’d prefer they know how to seek out danger and not die before they decide to just do it recklessly.”

“They’re your kids, of course they’ll be reckless,” Serana grumbled.  The Dragonborn glanced up.

“How do you figure that?”

“I’ve never seen any other woman rush straight into a Nordic crypt with only a piece of flexible wood between her and death, let’s put it that way,” Serana said drily, and her traitor dead heart almost fluttered at the sound of the Dragonborn’s laugh.


End file.
